


The Stark Affiliation

by neverending_shenanigans, uruvielnumenesse



Series: AC/MCU [2]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types, Iron Man (Movies)
Genre: Gen, mentions of William Miles - Freeform, no stark doesnt become an assassin, poor desmond, the assassin mentor is Nasir
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-12-16 18:42:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11834724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neverending_shenanigans/pseuds/neverending_shenanigans, https://archiveofourown.org/users/uruvielnumenesse/pseuds/uruvielnumenesse
Summary: Ho Yinsen did not sign up for this





	The Stark Affiliation

January 24 2010.

Years since Desmond had managed to escape the Farm and the clutches of his overbearing militant crazy father. A few years since he established himself as a decent enough bartender for the Bad Weather nightclub.

It was a busy enough night. 

College kids drinking away their sorrows at having to return back to their school lives. Wasting money that probably belonged to their parents for some fun oblivion. Music thumping loud enough that the customers leaned in to yell out their orders.

Either way it was money in his pockets and, eyeing the giggling brunette who keeps coming back, a warm body in his bed.

“Hey, De, turn up the tv.” Dan, the old bartender, hollers from the opposite side of the bar counter. 

Desmond quickly locates the tiny remote for the walled tv and tosses a crooked smile at the brunette. He juggles the bottle of Ciroc and tries not to feel smug when he hears the gasps. Oh yeah, it’s good to be the only decent looking guy in the vicinity.

The dark skinned man in the corner doesn’t count when he already has a hot piece with him.

“Is that Tony Stark?” Only to have his hopes dashed as a pretty brunette looks at the TV instead.

Desmond sighs but turns as well to face the tv. A solemn looking Christine Everheart is staring back at him. In a tiny corner there is a video playing of Tony Stark testing some Stark Industries weapon ™ and another clip of a military van exploding. How the hell did they get that anyway? Wasn’t he on some secret military mission?

Everyone inside the bar is silent because how can a man as loud as Tony Stark-from his shoes, clothes, his stupid goatee, and personality,- just disappear. It’s eerie how even Evenheart is silent.

“That was footage from the Jericho testing sight in the Middle East several hours ago. After being escorted by some military personnel, the vehicle was destroyed with no survivors. There have been no updates on Tony Stark’s whereabouts.” Her voice solemn. 

The harsh reporter that’s ruthless in her search for truth asks the station to give a moment of silence for the vibrant billionaire.

“Ain’t that some shit.” Dan claps his shoulder, and Desmond tries not to flinch.

Muscle memory from before. Should’ve dodged Desmond. Why can’t you be more like your brother? The Templars aren’t going to hold back so neither will I.

“Even the rich ain’t safe.” He continues on oblivious.

Desmond grabs a glass to wipe down and watches the crowd return back to it’s boisterous mood. Wishing to Tony Stark’s health or something. Seems the man is the life of the party even when gone.

“He’ll turn up, guy like that is too notorious to go missing for long.” Desmond says after a while.

Dan snorts, his white whiskers get sucked into his mouth as he does so. “I’ll be damned if he didn’t do that as some sort of publicity stunt.”

It wouldn’t be the first time that someone faked their deaths for gains be it monetary or otherwise. And given Stark’s history it wouldn’t be out of character for him to do a stunt like this. Amazing is the fact that this hasn’t happened before.

But for Desmond, it’s just some celebrity drama that’ll stay in his brain for about 10 minutes before leaving his mind all together. Because what was Tony Stark to him in the Grand Scheme of Things?  
\-------

The air is hot and suffocating. Random drops of water echo around. The heavy footsteps of the guards walking the perimeter.

An unconscious man on an old cot. The closest thing to a bed in this god forsaken place. A small desk where he puts his medical supplies. Meager as they were, it was all he had prior to being taken captive. There’s blood caking the device that Yinsen used to save the man.

There’s blood all over his hands, but he’s been in that position before so it doesn’t bother him as much as the menacing presence of the guns.

The man’s vitals are stable enough but still he does not wake. Still asleep like those women in fairy tales. 

Yinsen struggles to stuff down the panic he feels as time goes without the unconscious man awaking or without rescue. Surely someone would have found him by now. His wife must have sought out Nasir when he did not return from the press conference.

Did Nasir not think it prudent to rescue him?

Was he not an asset to the Brotherhood?

And if not, was he not an innocent to be saved?

These thoughts run through his head as he prays-to any god that’ll hear- for a way out.  
\----

A month goes by and the man wakes up.

He opens his eyes for a moment without lucidity and his head sags again. Yinsen cannot contain his shout of surprise and guards come in armed. The Ten Rings group had upped their security when Yinsen stabilized the man.

Yinsen is forced to admit under duress that the man was no longer in danger of being in a coma. Under watchful eyes he performs a physical examination and finds the results satisfactory.

Again he is left with the man and his thoughts for company.

A few more days go by and Yinsen begins-having desperately chased away all thoughts of such- to feel despair as the realization that the Brotherhood won’t be coming to save him. And the unsettling thought that he’d have to break himself out.

The man groans.

And the other prisoner. Stay thy blade from the flesh of the innocent and all that.

Yinsen has a cup ready when the man tries to voice himself but cracks at the dryness in his throat.

And the second the man opens his mouth after hydrating makes Yinsen want to put him back to sleep. Perhaps the isolation has left him less tolerate of American stupidity. William Miles was certainly less tolerable than this man.

An endless stream of questioning incoherent babble followed by an accusation of being in league with his kidnappers. If that didn’t ignite a flame of anger then the offer of a bribe to assist him surely did.

“No, Mr. Stark, I am not one of your assailants.” Yinsen sighed.

The identity of the man made everything clearer and more dangerous. Tony Stark, weapons designer, taken hostage could only mean one thing. 

To make weapons.

And thus making Yinsen an unwilling accomplice as he saved Stark from dying of cardiac arrest and keeping him stable throughout his coma. Perhaps it would have been better to let the man die.

“Then who the hell are you, man?” Yinsen could see Tony begin to hyperventilate as he noticed the large metal thing in his chest.

“And what the fuck. What the fuck is that on my chest? Jesus Christ!” Tony hesitates to touch his chest. Because what the fuck. That was not there last time he looked down.

“The crash caused an immeasurable amount of damage to your body. That thing-as you so eloquently put it- is preventing the metal shards from entering your heart any further. It was the only way to save you.” Yinsen could easily recall the fear and shakiness in his hands as he operated on Stark. On a sterile operating room, he could have managed but having a gun to your head did nothing for emotional control. Not to mention the fear of having the patient die of sepsis in these horrid conditions.

Tony struggles to sit up on his own. He raises a hand to stop Yinsen from helping him up. This situation is beyond bizarre. He had to get his bearings or else he’d begin to scream and never stop.

It’s a small success but a painful one.

“This is surreal.”

“This is your new reality Mr. Stark, so please get used to it.”  
\----  
Yinsen was pleased to find out that Tony-call me Tony, Yinsen- was as intelligent as portrayed on the media. Then again he had known that from years before. 

The effects of Tony Stark’s intelligence can be seen all around them.

“I can’t do it. Can’t build another Jericho again.” Yinsen offers no comfort but a hand on Tony’s shoulder.

It pained him to see the man swim in his guilt but Tony needed to see what his weapons wreaked on the world. The innocents who suffered.  
\--  
“I can’t leave you here, Yinsen. We’re gonna make it out together,” Tony’s voice is hard. 

The body of a guard laid dead at their feet and the smell of bullets stank the air. Yinsen could almost feel Nasir’s pride. All that training he reluctantly did finally became of use.

“I do not think we shall.” Yinsen stifled back a groan. Cracked ribs were both painful and scorching. 

Tony, clunking in his hulking armor, moves closer to the bedridden man. He doesn’t glance outside aware that there was more guns waiting.

“What about your family?” Tony’s mask is off, tears beading at the edges of his eyes.

Yinsen’s vision is blurry even with his glasses on. He coughs weakly.

“I shall see them when I leave this place.” Yinsen says, voice hoarse.

A part of him knew that Miriam would rather level the earth than leave him behind, Nasir be damned. For her to not have rescued him meant ill things had happen to her.

The feeling of pain dims alongside his other senses.

Tony’s rage is felt by the Ten Ring mercenaries.


End file.
